“Oh, when you act, you have a great deal to learn by heart, so you _must_ have a good memory,” returned Giles, airily. “Oh, look! look!” interrupted Colin. “Here they come! These are the heralds, aren’t they?” There was a stir and a swaying in the crowd, and all the people at the windows began to crane their necks to see three or four horsemen, who came riding down a narrow side-alley into the market-place, scattering the throng, which pressed back before them. Then a silence fell. “Oh, how beautiful they look!” Margery whispered. And indeed in their tunics of blue and crimson, embroidered with gold, their horses also decked in gay velvet trappings, the heralds, with their silver trumpets, were quite magnificent. One of them, after a long blast on his trumpet, had by this time begun to announce the plays. “Reverend lords and ladies all, That at this time here assembled be,” he chanted, and then went on to mention the subject of each play, and the special guild by which it was to be acted. The children exchanged delighted glances when the Parchment-makers’ and Bookbinders’ Guild came in its place on the list, for in that play, “Abraham sacrificing his son Isaac on an altar,” they were, of course, specially interested. At last, with another blast from the trumpets, the heralds clattered away. “The first pageant will be here in a minute,” said Giles. “It must be nearly over at Mikelgate by this time. The heralds were late.” “What are all those flags for?” asked Colin. He was looking down into the market-place, where a great square was marked out by gay banners stuck at intervals into the ground between the cobble-stones. Each banner had the arms of the city painted upon it, and all the flags fluttered bravely in the wind. “They’re to mark the place where the pageant is to stand,” said Giles. “It’s arranged like that all over the town. Wherever a platform is to be placed, the banners are put to show the exact position.” “Is Giles telling you all about it?” asked Master Harpham, leaning over the shoulders of his friends at the window to pat Margery’s head. “Aye! aye! You ask him anything you want to know, and I’ll warrant he’ll have an answer ready. A fine fellow at the pageants is Giles! The Town Council chose him out of a score of others to play Isaac. Aye, that they did!” he added proudly, turning to the women who crowded behind the children. Margery looked up shyly at the big man, whom they had not seen before. He had just come up from his shop in the basement to bring the news that the first platform, or _pageant_, as every one called it, was on its way; and now he was passing from group to group at the windows, greeting his acquaintances in a loud, hearty voice, and inquiring whether every one could see. “Did you have to practise a long time for Isaac?” asked Margery, who could not get over her awe at the knowledge that Giles was one of the players.